


The Mirror

by TrinityRain



Series: Poetry [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Flash Fiction, Other, Poetry, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22770799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinityRain/pseuds/TrinityRain
Summary: there sits a plain mirror in an attic. a conversation occurs. madness or magic?
Series: Poetry [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1314509





	The Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for fun and i love it and i actually won an award for it, so i'm very proud.

Reflective glass in an unadorned frame  
Plain and simple, nothing special  
Hanging above the simple dresser  
The mirror

Gazing into the mirror  
Light pooling onto its surface  
Mirrored images follow movement  
From in front of the mirror

She studied herself in her reflection  
Sorrowful eyes glazed over  
Thin lips drawn in a soft frown  
Hands reaching up to smooth the wrinkles on her forehead

“That’s not going to do anything”  
She stopped fruitlessly smoothing out her skin,  
Hands coming back down to dangle at her sides  
“I know”

A soft sigh escaped her lips  
She looked straight into her reflection’s eyes  
Her reflection meeting her own  
“What do you think about our hair?”

She reached up to her hair  
Pulling and tugging, twisting in different ways  
“It’s plain and boring, hardly anything special”  
She continued to frown at the brown mess on her head

Her reflection frowned  
“It looks fine”  
Hands returned to her face,  
Pushing the tip of her nose upwards

Her reflection rolled her eyes  
“That won’t do anything either”  
She continued to push her nose  
Moving her head from side to side, admiring what it’d be like

“Our nose is too big,  
Angled too downwards”  
Glaring at her nose,  
Her reflection followed suit

The reflection sighed  
Leaning against the plain frame  
Of her glass home  
“It’s just a nose”

She frowned at her physical counterpart  
Tired of her delirious critiques   
“You’re crazy, stop finding flaws  
That aren’t there”

One last time,  
A sigh, long and drawn out,  
Escaped her lips  
As she looked herself up and down

“I guess you’re right”  
The clicking of her heels  
Tapped their way to the door,  
Fading with the distance 

A single candle flickered in the empty room,  
Soft light dancing on the walls,  
Bouncing off the rectangle above the dresser  
In the unadorned wooden frame

The mirror   
  



End file.
